


Lick

by Furhious



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Explicit Smut, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furhious/pseuds/Furhious
Summary: Connor loves the way you taste.Yet another shameless smut fic. Enjoy!





	Lick

Connor loves the way you taste.

You can’t complain - at all. The first time he went down on you, he was at it for _hours_ , learning you with his lips and tongue and teeth. For you, this way of getting off had always been hit-and-miss, but with Connor, he made you come at _least_ five times before you lost count and ended as a sobbing, sweaty mess, trembling on the bed.

He always asks permission, too, with an upturned brow and the most innocent of expressions, and a polite “May I?” that makes your insides shiver. And you always, always say yes. Not always verbally, sometimes it’s just a whimper because he has you so worked up already, but his advanced social module can interpret non-verbal cues just as well as your more vocal forms of consent.

Sometimes he doesn’t even need to get you worked up. Sometimes, like tonight, you invite him over after a long day at work just to spend time together and he steps inside the door and gives you this _look_ that to any other person would seem blank and unaffected, robotic, but you can see the glint in his eyes and it makes your knees weak before he even reaches you. He has your pants and panties off before you can react and the shock of him pressing you against the wall and kneeling in front of you, his mouth on you almost in the same movement, has the same effect as hours of foreplay.

You’re wet as he kisses up your thigh, almost dripping by the time he’s laving your folds with his tongue. He has so much control over the pressure he exerts, and he never, ever gets tired. So even if it wasn’t effortless for him to make you come, he is patient enough to keep at it until you do.

This time, he eases your leg over his shoulder for better access and nuzzles in. You gasp as you feel the cold tip of his nose brush your clit but he affords it no more immediate attention, instead pressing the flat of his tongue full against your labia, lapping at your slick. You groan deep in your throat and your hands slide into Connor’s hair, fingers gripping at the dark strands. You used to be afraid of causing him pain before he told you he can’t feel it if he doesn’t want to. Now you’re not shy about tugging and pulling to try and get him where you want him.

Connor ignores you, though, determined to explore you at his own pace. It’s torturous, the slow glide of his tongue through your slit. It’s like he’s trying to devour you, cunt first. If it wasn’t so maddening, you’d be coming already.

But you crave the tip of his tongue as firm as he knows you like it in _that spot_ , the pressure of suction from his lips when he closes them over your clitoris, the slide of his fingers inside you that never ever fails to bring you over the edge. Your thigh trembles over his shoulder and you buck into his face, chasing the burn, but he moves his hands to your hips and grips them _hard_ , pinning you back against the wall. You whine your protest but an adominishing brush of his teeth over the hood of your clitoris - just the slightest pressure from the hard points of his canines - makes you lose focus and fall back against the wall, limp and malleable.

Satisfied, Connor trails his tongue back down, through the center of you, the drag of its textured surface forcing a shudder through you that you feel from your pussy to the back of your scalp. When his tongue stiffens and he works the tip inside you, flicking up, your eyes close and your head falls back on a loud moan. The leg still on the floor is shaking now, which doesn’t escape his notice - you cry out in surprise as Connor picks that leg up, too, and places it over his other shoulder, holding you up effortlessly, as if you weigh nothing.

To him, you probably do.

He’s been silent this whole time but when you look down at him to try and gauge his reactions you notice his eyes are closed, there’s the faint hint of a frown of concentration between his brows and his LED is a constantly spinning circle of yellow. Yeah. He’s into this.

He continues fucking you with his tongue until you’re trembling, squirming, your clit is throbbing like it’s on fire and you’re gasping “Connor, please, _please_ ,” and then one of his hands leaves your hips and ventures inward, his palm firm against your stomach. When his thumb finds your clit you cry out and writhe in his grip, your legs tightening around his head, but he keeps you steady.

He brushes the pad of his thumb over the hood of your clit, just the lightest of touches, infuriating, but at least it’s _something_ and your cunt answers with a surge of warmth. Then you hear him groan, and the vibrations from his voice translated through his lips and tongue pressed against you is just delicious. He seems to agree, sucking on you now, swiping away your fluids with firm sweeps of his tongue, and that increase in pressure is all you need to come undone.

You seize up inside, tight around nothing, and the ripples begin in the muscles of your inner walls before spreading outwards, bringing mind-numbing heat with it. It’s a tremble in every nerve, an explosion of pure sensation that has you arching into it with a cry, desperately chasing to prolong the feeling. You grab for Connor’s wrist, trying desperately to press his hand more firmly against your clit, but he tears it effortlessly from your grasp and you cry out in frustration, but that cry turns into ecstasy as he finally, _finally_ lifts his mouth and seals it over your clit.

He sucks, just lightly, but with enough pressure to keep you squirming on that high, and the tip of his tongue presses stiff and precise into the bundle of nerves, tap-tap-tapping away at your orgasm. You shudder wholly, from your bones to your brain, the air punched from your lungs with the force of it. You double over, hunched over Connor’s head, grabbing his hair and making unintelligible noises mixed with the sound of his name.

He doesn’t let up. He keeps going, brushing up-down-up-down with his tongue now, directly over your clit, and the pleasure peaks into a lightning bolt of pure nerve-sizzling sensation. It’s like being shocked with electricity, directly to your core, and it’s at once too much and not enough. You scream, throwing your head back against the wall with a dull _thunk_ , just barely managing _not_ to knock yourself out. The feeling between your legs almost does, though.

Then, after what seems like an eternity, Connor finally lets up. He lets your swollen clit ease away from his lips and instead busies himself with lapping up the fluids from your orgasm. Gently, softer now, his tongue probes you, licking back and forth while you tremble and pant above him.

When he detects your breathing has slowed and your heartbeat has started to even out, he pulls back, easing your legs off his shoulders and helping your feet onto the floor. You shudder at the loss of contact, leaning heavily back against the wall. When you open your eyes at last and look down at him, he looks...as satisfied as you have ever seen him. His hair mussed from your hands, his eyes half-closed, and his mouth and chin shiny and damp from the residue of you.

“Connor,” you say, because you can’t think of anything else in that moment except him.

“Was that acceptable?” he asks, ever the gentleman, and you can’t help but laugh, brushing that ever-present strand of hair back from his forehead.

“Let’s just say this: If you eat me out like that every time, you can do that _any_ time.”

The suggestion of a smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. You have a feeling like you’ve gotten yourself into a lot of trouble, so before he answers, you forge forward: “Was it acceptable for _you_ , though?” And, because you’re curious: “And _why_ do you seem to like doing that so much?”

“The way you taste,” Connor tells you, his hand now soothing down the outside of your hip, your thigh.

“And how do I taste?” you ask, your voice rougher than you’d like. He’s giving you that _look_ again.

“You taste...raw, and organic, and human,” he says, without breaking eye contact, looking straight up into you. “And whenever I taste you, I always want _more_ .” 

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat to get your voice back. It feels like it’s coming from somewhere in the pit of your stomach, and lower, heat coiling in you again despite being so overwhelmed mere moments before. “Take me to bed, and you can have more.”

Before you can register what’s happening, Connor’s risen to his feet and swept you off yours and into his arms.

You’re laughing all the way into your bedroom, but not too long after that, the only sounds you can make are just moans and sighs.

You don’t mind one bit.


End file.
